Thanks for so much more than nothing
by Xallutamair
Summary: WARNING: OCPietro (no sexual contact, don't worry) When Pietro begins to loose his grip on sanity, can he rely on the help from his friends to keep him from slipping? Please review, I'm sorry the summary sucks.
1. Nightmarish memories

Author's note: I do not own X-men evolution or any of the characters in it, but I DO own Rikhel (Xallutamair), or OC. Please review, and enjoy the story! I will update frequently.  
  
"Father, for the love of god, let me out. F--FATHER?!? PLEASE, I'm begging you, Magneto, LET ME OUT!" The walls of the already sickeningly cluttered closet seemed to be closing in upon him. Magneto was obviously either ignoring his cries, or had just left him...left him to die more than likely. Pietro yanked down on the thick chains that suspended him high above the ground. The crimson blood running down his arms, soaking and staining his clothing a dark red; it was nothing to him anymore. Nothing but numb...  
  
Hiding my imperfections  
  
Before my resurrection  
  
Faults free for inspection  
  
Free finally from deception  
  
Lies of my invention  
  
This problem that I mention  
  
Might keep me from redemption  
  
I'm losing my perception  
  
This idea of my conception  
  
To save me from my-  
  
Suicide......  
  
He heard, to his delight, a loud crack as his left wrist finally snapped under the pressure of his remaining body weight. Again he waited for pain, but none came... but, the blood still came. He hadn't the strength to look up and acknowledge the injury. His metabolism would be the one to kill him, not his broken and tattered body. Pietro had already been without food or water for 2 and a half days, and not being able to run, to run away from this horrible diseased hell, was slowly driving him insane.......nothing but escape mattered anymore, even if that came in the form of death.......nothing.........  
  
Pietro woke in a cold sweat. Why the hell did he fall asleep? He never let himself fall asleep, ever. He jumped quickly up off the worn couch, scattering pop-corn and candy wrappers everywhere. Pietro ran briskly to the upstairs bathroom, the only one anyone bothered to clean. A shower, a cold shower would wake him up fully. No more sleep, he couldn't keep having that damned dream; he flatly refused! About half way up the stairs, he turned his attentions to the hanging wall- clock Lance had hung next to the front door; 2:56 am. Only about three fucking hours into the morning. He slammed his fist down hard on the banister, causing the stairs to vibrate slightly. "FUCK, I can't last all god-damned night!! No way in hell!" The adrenaline he'd inherited from the nightmare was still holding strong, but how long would it last? How long would it be until sleep caught up to him again? "Looks like another fun-filled evening with my friends, caffeine and classical music...maybe the shower will save me from having to endure Beethoven." He continued his clumsy trudge up the stairs towards the bathroom. 


	2. Shards of glass form a broken past

The hallway, just like the rest of the house, was dark yet inviting to tired and ill-adjusted eyes. Pietro turned into the bathroom, welcomed by off-white tiles and shining metal knobs...he hated metal. Upon entering the room, he caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirror over the sink. Blood; Pietro was covered completely in his own glistening blood. His eyes were wide with what seemed like rage, and his once silver hair was flattened down by what looked like more blood. Pietro panicked. He turned his head swiftly, staring at his reflection in the mirror head on. The original image was gone, replaced by a tall, slender boy with deep, sleepy eyes. No blood, no red matted hair, no angry eyes, just Pietro Maximoff. He laughed a tired, empty laugh. "I...I must be going insane! That's it, completely and totally off my rocker! No more horror movies for you Pie, no sir-ee." He began to turn away again, when he noticed a deep scar which seemed to follow directly under his jaw-line, extending about 2 inches up. It took him a few seconds to recall exactly where it had come from. The chains! That was it; one of the chain-links had come apart and grazed his neck...right? Why hadn't he noticed it before? He distinctly remembered it happening, but then he didn't...the scar in itself was a mystery to him. The cold shower was no longer important. Pietro turned back toward the stairs, jumping them 2 or 3 at a time. Once at the bottom, he crossed the length of the living room to a small shelf shoved underneath the television set, which was still displaying late-night advertisements- 'Do you want to make more money? Of course, we all do--'  
  
"Yearbooks, Lance. Where did you put the god-damned yearbooks...." 'That's why Florida No-fall has devised a solution for all your financial needs, as well as personal prob--'  
  
"LANCE!! WHERE DID YOU HIDE THE FRIGGIN' YEARBOOKS?!?" 'We're here to make your life as an American easier, why not let us help you?'  
  
"Finally, c'mon. I know I'm in here somewhere.....Maximoff, where's Maximoff......" 'While working for Florida No-fall, you call earn your bachelor's degree in- Veterinary assisting, Computer development--'  
  
"Maximoff, Maximoff, Maximoff....WHERE AM I?!?" '—Accounting, Child care, Interior decorating--'  
  
"THERE! Pietro Maximoff, 10th grade, damn I'm good!" Pietro's silver hair and sapphire eyes stuck out against his navy blue background, but he didn't see a scar. He was so sure the incident had been before yearbook pictures were taken, but perhaps he had been wrong...or perhaps he hadn't acquired the scar from an exposed chain-link. He turned his attentions up toward the TV, which was still showing the 'Florida No- fall' ad... 'Why waste your time with other, non-reliable programs? Trust me when I tell you that--' Trust me......why did that phrase trigger a mental alarm in his head. It angered him for some reason, but why? Maybe it wasn't the phrase itself, maybe it was the calm, collected way the advertiser had said it- like there wasn't a care in this whole fucking world. Like trusting her would make any problems you ever had go away...that tone angered him more than anything else, because it was his father's favorite tone to use when manipulating his children; when manipulating Pietro. Trust me.....Now he remembered the scar.......  
  
Lance had been woken by a loud crash downstairs, and was about to shrug it off as the aftermath of a bad dream...until he remembered the speed demon sleeping underneath him. "Can't he keep himself from destroying the house until morning?" The senior turned to look at the small digital clock which sat by his bed; it read 5:32 am. "Oh COME ON! Pietro, you are DEAD! DEAD I SAY!!" Lance grabbed a discarded pair of jeans and began down the stairs toward the living room...but that's not exactly what he found. Trashed; everything was completely trashed. Shelves had been knocked over, pictures had been torn from the wall, and the television screen had been shattered. Standing in the middle of the wreckage was Pietro, and Lance noted that his eyes flashed from an icy white to their original sapphire blue. "Damn Pie, what happened?" Pietro dropped the table leg he had been holding and smiled weakly. "I was...re-decorating. Looks a lot better, huh? I was planning on knocking out that whole wall right there so Freddy wouldn't have to walk so far to get to the kitchen; you know how he hates physically exerting himself..." "......You were re-decorating the house.....with a table leg...??" "Um...well, resources are slim, ya know? I was gonna advance to something heavier later on, but I kinda lost track." A half smile spread across Pietro's face, obviously praying that Lance would believe his story. If he weren't so damned tired, he was sure he could have thought up something better. Lance raised an eye-brow. It didn't look like Pietro had been 're- decorating', but there would be no explanation tonight; the speedster had made that perfectly clear. "Whatever man, just clean all this shit up before Tabby wakes up, okay? She'd have a field day if she thought we were allowed to wreck Mystique's pad like this-' Lance shivered slightly at the idea of Boom-boom trying to help knock out a wall. "-and, um...how about we just leave that wall where it is, huh?" Pietro gave him a smart nod, then watched the older male walk back up the stairs toward bed...he'd lucked out again.  
  
If Lance knew that Pietro had lost his temper, he didn't show any signs of it. 'Probably just thought I was trashing the house to get on his nerves, or that maybe I was on too much caffeine or something'. Pietro had successfully covered up his tracks again, but how long would he be able to keep this up? What exactly had happened to him? He didn't remember trashing the living room this bad. The TV he could account for, but the walls? The shelves? The furniture? It's like he'd blacked out past 'television trashing'. Pietro rubbed at his temples, he could already feel a killer head-ache coming on. 'Aww, poor baby Pietro has a little head-ache? Suck it up!' Pietro jumped about a foot into the air. He searched frantically around the room. "L....Lance? That you man?" 'Nope, sorry. Lance went back to bed, remember? It's just you, and me.' Again, Pietro scanned the room...but could find nobody. He turned, and to his amazement, discovered that he had somehow missed a mirror...but it wasn't Pietro staring back at him. Same hair, same skin...but completely different twisted smile and icy-white eyes...eyes that seemed distant, yet together- apathy. "What the....Who the....What are you-"  
  
'Oh, don't hurt yourself. I'll wait till you figure out what you're going to say, take your time.' The thin face smirked impishly, leaving Pietro awestruck and speechless. How ironic; the only person in the world able to stump Pietro Maximoff was Pietro Maximoff himself.  
  
"Who.....what are you??"  
  
'I'm you, simple as that.' Pietro's eyes suddenly widened. Panic was beginning to take hold again. Was this the same figure he'd seen in the bathroom mirror? No, couldn't be. "G—Go away! Leave me alone!"  
  
The reflection bit at its bottom lip in anger, drawing tiny droplets of blood from the delicate skin. 'Oh, but Pietro; without me, who on earth would you do your dirty work, the things you haven't the spine to do? Who would be your scapegoat? Who would you talk to when you're so alone? You need me, and yet you try to send me away... why is that Pietro? You know you're nothing without me...'  
  
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!?"  
  
'I've told you...I'm Quicksilver.'  
  
Lance heard the screaming through his closed door, but couldn't make out the words. Afraid that maybe Pietro was having another fit, he once again trudged down the stairs...only this time, nothing had changed. Pietro was now standing in front of an old antique mirror Mystique had hung above the couch, staring at his own reflection. Blood-shot, panicked eyes bounced back at the young mutant, eyes that seemed to widen further as every second passed. "Piet, you okay man?" Pietro spun around facing Lance. "Lance! I thought you went to bed!" Lance paused a bit...why did Pietro suddenly seem so guilty? "Ya, but I thought I heard you screaming...everything ok?" The cold voice re-appeared in Pietro's ear. 'What makes him think it's any of his business? Who does he think he is sticking his nose in our personal affairs?' Pietro's eyes began to glaze over again, giving them the same eerie white appearance. "Ya Lance, what make's you think it's any of your damned business?" Lance was slightly taken aback by Pietro's sudden change in tone. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have thought Pietro was...well, Magneto. "Look, I just wanted to make sure you were alright and...what are you looking at?" Pietro seemed to be transfixed by his own reflection, like a moth to light...what was wrong with him. Pietro suddenly tightened his right hand into a fist and smashed it into the mirror.  
  
"I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED ANYBODY, PLEASE! LEAVE- ME- ALONE!!!" Pietro's body went limp to the ground, his legs no longer able to support his weight; a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety creeping up upon his feeble carcass. Lance ran down to help his friend, whose hand was now bleeding freely, tracing crimson designs on the carpet. It was only after he approached Pietro that he noticed the tears that stained his face and bare chest. Shards of glass had torn at his face, and his lips trembled slightly, trying to find the strength to form words. "L.....Lance.......help." What had happened in those 5 minutes Lance had been upstairs? "God. Pietro; what am I going to do with you?" It was 6 o'clock in the morning.  
  
Well? What'd you think? Please review if you enjoyed it. 


	3. The arrival of another Alvers

Author's note: I'd like to take this time to thank DemonRogue13 for sending me my first review! Thank you! Anyway, I'm sure as you all know by now, I do not own X- men evolution or any of its characters (except Rikhel, who hasn't been introduced yet so it doesn't matter() Anyway, for anybody that likes OCs, she will be introduced in this chapter, so READ ON! Thank you.  
  
Taking Pietro to the hospital would probably have been the wisest thing to do, but that would also have involved explaining the speedster's unusually high metabolism and humming heart-beat...so the idea was vetoed. Instead, Lance tore an old black work shirt into strands and tied them around Pietro's bloodied hand, creating a make-shift bandage. Cleaning the remainder of Pietro's wounds, on the other hand, would most likely prove a greater challenge. Deep cuts around his eyes would make it hard for Lance to keep the alcohol swabbing to only the wounds, especially with the amount of squirming Pietro was doing. "OW, would you cut it! It BURNS! IT FREEEEZES!" "Oh, would you stop being such a baby! It's just gonna burn a little, and it wouldn't hurt so much if you'd hold still!" Pietro limited his movement to an occasional eye-roll or spasm, but still held the un- mistakable look of a young child being forced into something as horrible as, say, vegetables. "C'mon Lance, would you hurry up?!" "Ya, ya; I hear you. Just keep that up and I'll consider dipping that hand of yours in this stuff." "I'm keeping STILL; what more do you want?!?" Lance still wasn't quite sure how Pietro had suddenly found all this energy, when not even an hour ago he could barely stand up...wait, an hour ago?! Lance turned suddenly and stared blankly at the wall clock, which had somehow survived Pietro's little fit. 7:39...that couldn't be right! "Aw shit! Look what you did Pietro; I'm late!" Pietro shot his friend a puzzled look. "Late? For what?" Lance had already started up toward his room at break-neck speeds. "Airport huff puff...sister, late to pick up huff puff sister!" About 2 minutes later, he re-emerged fully-dressed in his usual attire and tightly clutching his car keys. Before running out the door into the cold November morning, he turned again to Pietro. "I want this house at least presentable by the time I get back, or...or...no more sugar!" With that said, Lance trudged out, slamming the door behind him; leaving an awestruck and half-bandaged Pietro lying in the middle of their living room floor. "Sister; Lance has a sister?!?"  
  
The airport was, as Lance expected, quite crowded. "Jesus, how many people could possibly be coming to Bayville for the holidays? We're right smack in the middle of bum-fuck Egypt!" Looking around, Lance seriously hoped that when he found his sister, she'd recognize him, cause he sure as hell wouldn't be able to find her in all this- "Excuse me; I'm looking for a Lance Alvers, has anybody by that name been to the desk?" A thin blond woman behind the counter looked over at the teenager. "I'm sorry little girl, but nobody by that name has checked in yet. Would you like me to call for him?" "No, thanks anyway...I'll just call him." Lance turned quickly to face the main desk, and sure enough, there she was; Rikhel. Even though he was 3 years older than her, they still looked quite a good deal alike. She had inherited his chocolate-brown eyes, pink complexion, and brown hair (which had been colored a light burgundy). She wore black-rimmed eye glasses that magnified her eyes just the right amount, and a curvy hour-glass figure...just like their mother. But there was something completely new; broad silver wings protruded from her back, which she had folded against her sides. "HEY, KHEL! Need a ride, sis?"  
  
Pietro reached down for another piece of broken glass. It was odd; try as he might, his memory of the night before was slowly waning. He remembered the TV, smashing that son of a bitch for everything he was worth. He'd seen something that really made him mad, heard something that made him snap...but what? He chucked a shard of glass in frustration, narrowly missing Toad, who had been making his way down the stairs to the kitchen. "Um...good morning to you too, yo." Pietro turned; he hadn't meant for anybody to see him do that, but it didn't really matter anyway. Toad made his way cautiously around more shards of glass and splintered picture frames. "What the hell were you doing down here?" "I guess I just, you know, spaced out." Toad turned to face Pietro, opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "Suuuure, whatever. Look, do you know where Lance is? He was supposed to make breakfast this morning, yo." "Ya, he went to go pick up his sister at the airport...do you know anything about us having company?" Toad shrugged "Maybe I do, maybe I don't; that all depends on whether or not you're gonna make breakfast." "NO I am not going to make breakfast, I-" But before he could finish, Toad had already turned around and started hopping back up the stairs, closing his door behind him. Pietro heard the muffled voice of his teammate through the door. "No breakfast, no info. Wake me up again when Lance shows, yo."  
  
It wasn't too much longer before Pietro heard the crunch of gravel outside as Lance's jeep pulled into the driveway, accompanied by a young girl. Pietro didn't bother to look up when he heard the front door open, to be honest, he couldn't have cared less.  
  
"Ya Khel, you're really gonna like it here. We got lots of room, and cable, and food- OH SHIT! Food, breakfast! Um...how does Chinese sound to you? Pizza? Whatever you want, I'll-" "Lance, chill out! I'm your sister, not the prime minister. Besides, I'm not really hungry and...what happened here?!" 


	4. Disturbing distortions

Hey guys, sorry about the delayed update. I was in Europe!! Anyway, I'd like to thank my reviewers (wipes away tears I love you guys). By the way, one of my frequent reviewers noticed something in the last chapter that I failed to explain. Lance's sister had her wings spread out in the middle of a crowded airport; this is because I was trying to set this story sometime after the centinal incident, for those of you who pay that close attention (Thank you for pointing that out DemonRogue13!!! (). Anyway....ON WITH THE STORY!! --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------  
  
Pietro had decided not to see the Alvers siblings in...it would only lead to trouble. Lance would just jump on him for not cleaning up the house, and he really wasn't in the mood for that.  
  
"Stupid Lance, stupid house, stupid mirror......STUPID!!"  
  
"You're absolutely right. It is stupid; but we're not, are we."  
  
Pietro faltered for a moment. He wasn't used to this yet, or was he? ARGG! He couldn't remember anything anymore. Maybe some more sleep would do him go- NO! No more sleep! Wasn't that what had started all this?? He'd had a bad dream, then woken up and spazzed. Lance would absolutely freak if he pulled that again, especially if they had company. Pietro laid sprawled out on his bed, looking up at the egg-shell ceiling.  
  
"What did I do wrong? I mean, sure we steal and we're related to Magneto and....WE?!?!? Oh god there is something reeeeally wrong with me!"  
  
Pietro grabbed at his abandoned pillow near the foot of his bed, covering his face with it. Eventually, sleep took hold, and Pietro un-willingly fell into a deep dreamless sleep.......  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------- Lance had ended up ordering 3 large pizzas (which hadn't actually arrived until about 3 in the afternoon), though he barely touched them. Really, it was Freddy that dominated 2 of them, while Todd and Wanda split the other. The Alvers had spent most of the morning straitening the house. Lance couldn't help but worry about his friend. Who hadn't emerged from his room yet. "Hey, Lance; didn't you say something about a 4th guy living here too?" Lance looked up from the shattered glass at his sister, who was watching him with familiar brown eyes. "Um...ya, Pietro. But, I guess he went back to bed." A loud crash was heard, rebounding from up-stairs. "Oh no, not again... Hey, probably just a picture falling, I'll take care of it.....'Khel? Where the hell are you going??" Rikhel had already made her way about half-way up the stairs, holding a plate laden with 2 slices of pizza in her right hand. "Oh, sorry. I just figured maybe your friend was awake and-" "NO! I, um....I'll take it to him, I wouldn't want you, RIKHEL?!?!" The young mutant had already ascended to the 2nd floor, and Lance had been cut off by the sound of a door slamming upstairs. ".......well crap!"  
  
Pietro sat up suddenly, tossing the pillow from his face. During his sleep, he'd kicked out and knocked over his bed-side table; that must've been what woke him up. Unfortunately, he'd also knocked his clock down with the table. He leaned forward, surveying his now very dark room (due to his closed curtains)...but something caught his eye; something standing in his closed doorway. He jumped up out of bed, whatever it was, it was HUGE! Large wide talons protruded from it's bleeding back, and shoulder-length hair blew in all direction, and it's eyes...oh it's eyes......  
  
"GET AWAY FROM ME! G- GET OUT!!!"  
  
Abruptly, the creature turned and flipped the light switch to 'on', revealing itself in the soft glow of Pietro's fallen table-lamp. What had once been was no more. Now, Pietro saw a young girl, no more than 15. Large silver wings were spread comfortably out behind her, and her eyes (which had once appeared to be a fiery red) now seemed tranquil. The speed-demon settled back against his head-board, steadying his breathing a bit. "I'm...sorry about that. The, erm...lack of light messing with my mind, you okay?" The girl nodded, and held up the food she'd brought up. "I just wanted to know if you were hungry...I didn't mean to scare you like that, sorry." She gave a nervous grin, motioning toward the pizza. "Pepperoni ok with you?" Pietro realized that he had been staring directly at the large silver feathers dangling from her wings, and focused his attentions to the subject at hand. "Uh, ya; pizza sounds really good right now. Thanks..." He trailed off as his gaze caught her eye. So remarkably like Lance's, but softer, more gentle. She turned back toward the door awkwardly. "Well, I'm going back downstairs. I guess I'll see you later, ok?" "....Ya, see you later. And, um....thanks again" But she had already closed the door firmly behind her.  
  
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Well? What do you guys think? Please review soon, ok? Once again; sorry for the long delay and extremely short chapter...I promise the story will get better. 


	5. Imprisonment and Imagination

Hours passed before Pietro even considered going downstairs again…not after what he had said. He had completely freaked that kid out…damn his tormented and dis-functional mind. Instead, he'd decided to pop a few more prescription pills and sleep some more. Hell, if he'd been able to sleep soundly then, what should stop him form enjoying this same comfort now? Besides; sleep just seemed like such an easy way out of life…..and life bothered him immensely lately. Not soon after, a wave of dizziness took over, and was asleep………

------------------------

Pietro paced across the floor, leaving a long indent in the carpet. What was wrong with him? He directed his attention toward his fallen side table, then toward the door…somebody was on the other side….. somebody was singing……….

_Your thoughts are desperate, panicked, scared_

_Again it comes, the urge is clear_

_The blood-stained blade holds comfort still_

_But you don't move, still grasped by fear_

_You turn away, so insecure_

_You're loosing strength but don't know why_

_A salty tear is wiped away-_

_But never be too proud to cry…_

…there was blood, blood everywhere. He was completely engulfed within a crimson strait-jacket. Blood was in his mouth, his nose, his eyes…drowning him. So this was it; he was going to die, fallen victim to his own disgusting bodily fluids…….the irony….

He'd always WANTED to die before, and now suddenly he didn't….but he was still killing himself. What would Lance say?? And that girl, Lance's sister….what was her name?? Had she ever mentioned it? Lance must have mentioned it before, it wasn't like Lance to leave his little sister nameless, and……why was he so god-damned focused on that girl's name?!?! He was DYING!! And yet, he couldn't get his mind off those eyes…..

'She knew, Pietro. She could see how crazy you were….how un-curably INSANE you've become….she saw ME Pietro…and you know what?? You're afraid. Lance can't protect you forever, and he'll be warning his sister right now….you're going to die, and nobody's going to care. Nobody will miss you, Pietro; Lance is sick of you, his sister thinks your demented, YOUR sister hates you, your father--'

"SHUTUP!!"

The words sounded without his meaning to scream them, but they came just the same. His breaths were bringing less and less air now. This was it…he would die with that same voice sounding in his ear… that distorted reflection he'd seen earlier in the broken mirror…but it didn't matter anymore…nothing mattered anymore….he was dead………..

Pietro lifted his head barely an inch from the surface of the soft mattress, slowly becoming used to the transition from bright red to black…pure, endless black. Was he dead? He didn't feel dead. That's when he saw her, the bright silver wings glowing brightly through the void. Her back was turned toward him, and she seemed unaware of his presence. Pietro looked slowly around the room…not his room. He was laying on a mattress sprawled in the middle of one of their shabby guest-bedrooms, decorated with bits of tattered artwork and wallpaper. He focused his attention again upon the girl, who, as far as he could tell, was sleeping silently in a chair in front of him.

"What's your name?"

The girl turned around at break-neck speed, calming down a bit once she saw Pietro's form in the dark…she had obviously NOT been sleeping, perhaps dozing.

"Rikhel...you really shouldn't be up, how are you feeling?"

Pietro took another quick look around the room, still a bit confused. "What…what happened??"

"You overdosed. Lance brought you back from the hospital this morning. Everyone will be back later tomorrow; something about a Mystique??"

Pietro understood. Mystique had called the gang out for work, more than likely having to do with the X-men…well that was just fine….wait….he'd OVERDOSED?!?!?

"What are you doing here, then?"

Her calm, almost inviting smile faded. "I…told Lance I'd stay with you. Your father freaked when he found out…I'm sorry if you'd rather be with him, but…..he sacred me. If you'd like, I….I'll call him now that you're awake and-"

"NO! Don't, please." It took him a minute to realize that he'd jumped from the mattress and grabbed her arm. Standing this close to her, he was beginning to notice things about her he hadn't before. She was stocky, but not fat…just like Lance. Christ, could they be any more alike? She even had his eyes…wait, no. Those weren't Lance's eyes. From a distance, they appeared deep brown…but now, they were a dull shade of copper, barely tinted with brown; the dark did NOTHING for them. Her eyes…was she in pain? Pietro looked down; it had just occurred to him that his long fingers were wrapped tightly around her arm, turning it to pale. He looked back up at her, staring into her eyes again; was she really in you let go of me? Please?"

Relinquishing his grip on her arm, Pietro cursed under his breath following it up with a trail of speedy apologies; he was purposely focusing on anything and EVERYTHING but her….. why was he so damned nervous around her?? Nothing made sense anymore…although, nothing had made sense for the past couple of-wait…how long had he been un-conscious??

"How long was I out for?" Rikhel turned her gaze. She was obviously afraid of him; Hell, who wouldn't be?

"Erm, well…I'd say about 3 days, give or take. I haven't left the room a whole lot. Wouldn't want you to start having convulsions or something after I'd left." A wide smile spread across her face. Pietro, again, immediately thought of her brother…he'd really need to quit doing that. He was pulled from this thought by a deep shudder of the earth, then silence. This would normally mean that Lance was home…but this wasn't the case. The tremor had stopped far too abruptly, and besides, it had come from miles away….something was wrong. Rikhel ran toward the nearest window, pulling apart the curtains. She screamed and stumbled backwards; pressed up against the glass was the grinning face of Victor Creed.

"Hello, ladies. Quicksilver, I see you're feeling better already."

Pietro instinctively passed in front of Rikhel, blocking her from view. There was something about Sabertooth he'd never trusted…and he trusted that something even less right now. "What do you want, Creed? Shouldn't you be off doing Magneto's dirty work, or is that why you're here?"

"Actually yes, Magneto sent me to fetch the Alvers brat."

"Sorry to send my father a bad memo, but Lance stepped out and won't be-"

"Not that Alvers brat, Pietro, the one hiding behind your back. Tell me; is it in their nature to be so cowardly, or have you been teaching them what it's like to run away with your tail tuc---"

Pietro intended to pay Creed back for that one himself, but surprisingly, Rikhel was there first. Her fist connected with the glass, shattering it on impact. Sabertooth reared back, stunned and clawing at his eye- balls in what Pietro could only imagine was pain. Rikhel's face had turned a nasty shade of purple. "IF YOU EVER TALK ABOUT ME OR MY BROTHER THAT WAY AGAIN, I'LL HAVE YOU NEUTERED YOU FUCKING PUSSY!!"

…wow, it really WAS Lance's little sister; same temper and everything. Pietro turned to have a good laugh at Sabertooth, but he was already trotting off, still holding tight to his face. It took him a while to consider the fact that Rikhel's hand might be bleeding, but it registered once he saw the puddle of crimson slowly begin to form beneath the window's ledge. Hovered over it was the shaking form of Rikhel… she was rocking slowly and singing to herself. Pietro went rigid as he overheard part of what she was singing…

_……..salty tear is wiped away-_

_but never be too proud to cry…_

…….."No……..not again…."

"C'mon, yo; these walls can't be THAT strong. Hey Avalanche, try again, yo! Use your powers!"

Lance rolled his eyes and sighed. Although he admired Todd's enthusiasm, there was absolutely no way he could tear down these walls…at least not with the energy he had left. The Brotherhood had been stuck down under the Acolyte's lair for about a day now; couldn't Todd just understand that if there was a way out, they would've found it by now?

"Toad, it's no use. We're underground; using my powers would just tear up Magneto's top soil; I'm a seismic wave, not a gopher. I never thought I'd say this, but I wish Pietro were here."

Freddy raised his head, abandoning the truck he'd been drawing on the dirt-covered floor. "Ya, then we'd be able to give Magneto what he wants; his no-good selfish crazy son. Man, I wish your sister would just drag his crazy ass down here so we could go hom-"

Lance tore the ground from beneath Freddy, knocking him backwards. "Don't you EVER talk about Pietro that way again! Think about how many times he's saved your pathetic……." Lance closed his mouth, finally noticing the scared expressions on his team-mates faces. "….guys…I'm sorry. The stress must be getting to me, I….I'm just worried, okay."

Lance covered his face with his hands, turning from his friends and walking to the other side of the stale basement. He hadn't meant to get so mad at Freddy, but after seeing Pietro like that last week, Lance had formed a new impression of his 'crazy' friend. Pietro had always seemed so cocky, maybe even so far as Eric-esk, but never evil. But that night in the living room, he'd seen a different side of Pietro. He still hadn't seemed evil…creepy, definitely un-hinged, but not evil. But above all, Pietro had seemed so frail…so scared and hurt. Lance just wanted to help, then his sister had come and…..UGG! Everything had happened so fast, and Lance had never even had a chance to ask Pietro what had sparked that unusual behavior that night…he felt so guilty. It just struck him as un-fair for Freddy to bad- mouth Pietro like that when he, Lance, knew a completely different side of him. Why hadn't they just taken the time to-…oh ya…….they did, and he turned them away. Pietro, why would you turn away everybody that cares about you? Why are you so STUPID!

Freddy turned to his friend. "Hey Todd, I didn't mean to set him off like that or nothin'. You think he'll be ok?"

"Ya, he just needs some cooling down time, ya know? How would you like to have your 'lil sister stuck in a house with Pietro this long??"

Blob was silent for a long time, then shut his eyes and sighed. Todd realized that he'd never seen Freddy this way before. He looked so…sad. Freddy spoke, but didn't look up. "Todd, are we gonna die?? I mean, will Magneto kill us if he can't find Pietro?"

Todd blinked. He knew that Magneto planned on recruiting Lance into the Acolytes, and possibly his little sister too…but what would happen to the rest of the Brotherhood is Quicksilver wasn't found, and soon? Magneto had already done SOMETHING with Mystique, who's to say he wasn't capable of more? Todd shrugged, then looked up at Freddy.

"Nah; we'll be fine, yo."

Freddy smiled and got up to join Lance over by the door, most likely trying to pick the lock. Todd curled up into a ball, thinking intently. What WOULD happen if Quicksilver never showed up? If Sabertooth couldn't find him to deliver Magneto's message, then what would Magneto do to the Brotherhood? Or worse, what would Magneto have his lackeys do to the Brotherhood? The thought of being burned alive by Pyro chilled Todd to the bone, or being blown-up by Gambit, or being smashed by Colossus, or…….Sabertooth. Todd shuddered violently at that thought.

"God Pietro, I never thought I'd say this, but….please hurry…."

They had ended up wrapping Rikhel's hand in a pillow case, being that the two of them were locked inside that damned bedroom. Seeing Sabertooth had really scared him, but it also pissed him off royally. He hated Sabertooth.

Another tremor shook the Earth around them, rattling the windows behind the closed curtains. Pietro looked up out what was left of the East window, almost expecting to see Lance standing there, but the yard still remained empty. What was causing him to cause such a commotion? Something was wrong, REALLY wrong. Sabertooth wasn't just here to get 'Khel, there was more, Pietro knew that for certain. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth waking up Rikhel; not when he knew she would only worry about Lance the whole time. Pietro considered leaving and heading to the Acolyte's lair to find Gambit; he would help him with all this Magneto shit. There was plenty of cereal stuffed under the bed to last Rikhel until he could return with Gambit, and it would give him time to find her brother, ya; it was a good idea. He grabbed a sheet of paper of the desk, scribbling a short explanation-

**_"Khel-_**

**_Went to find your brother and the others, I should be back soon. If Sabertooth comes back--"_**

Shit. What IF Sabertooth comes back and she was here all alone? Pietro would come back to an empty wrecked house…no. He couldn't leave her here by herself, especially injured. He scribbled down one last comment.

_**FUCK IT!!!!!!!**_

He sighed, crumpling up the paper and shucking it out the window. "Well, it was worth a try, right?" He waited, but no answer sounded. Pietro sat down next to the young Alvers, who slept soundly. Perhaps it was worth another try. Pietro was having quite a difficult time keeping his eyes open at this point. Besides, it had to be at least 10 by now. Why would Magneto send somebody at 10 at night? With that false hope in mind, Pietro set his head down on the mattress next to Rikhel and closed his eyes. "Please" he though, "please let everything be ok when I wake up….please."

Well?? What do you think? Please review if you liked it, it means a lot to me!! 


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